Mon Ame
by Mistress Of The Macabre
Summary: Alois, the first Suitor. Before the monster, he was a man. A glimpse into the events that led up to Justine, and to the very end. Because everyone has a story to tell, even if that person is no longer considered to be a person. Warning: Dark themes. M for good reason.


**mon âme- My Soul.**

I love you.

Everything about you…every word that passes your lips, every fluid movement you make, the way your eyes sparkle…I love you. You are magnificent. You will always BE magnificent. I feel like this isn't the right word to describe you, my dear. Perhaps radiant is the word I am searching for? Beautiful? Gorgeous? All wonderful words for a lesser woman, but you, my love, are beyond words. I cannot describe how dear you are to me, and how stunning you must look now.

You have ensnared me in your net, and I will happily remain bound so long as it makes you happy. If you tire of this, then I shall do whatever it takes to see you smile again, to hear that laugh that is reminiscent of windchimes. Sometimes I wonder if you're human at all- could any woman be that lovely? But of course I am foolish for even THINKING that, my love! Of course you are human- the most perfect, utterly gorgeous and generous human on earth- but very much human.

I hear it sometimes, when you cry. I wish you wouldn't do that. I hate hearing you cry. Though you probably don't notice (and again, I berate myself for thinking even slightly badly of you, my love!), I cry along with you. To hear those sobs erupt from your chest…it makes me want to cut my heart out so it has to bear no more pain. Your crying is the worst, I think. You cry when you're around…_him. _

I know you say that you like it, but he is hurting you.

I would never hurt you, my dear. I would kill myself before doing so.

I…would do anything for you! ANYTHING! You bring this cogwheel to me, yes? You say you want to 'try something', yes? I did it, my dear! It hardly went past my head but we worked together, TOGETHER, and eventually it worked! It hurt a little, and my ears bled profusely, but you laughed and clapped your hands together, and I was the happiest man alive. I had seen you smile and laugh before, my love, but never like that. The pain…felt good. If it made you happy, then of course I would suffer through unimaginable pain! Because I would do ANYTHING for you, my love! Do you not see how utterly loyal I am to you? Do you not see? Do my scars mean nothing? I am the most devoted! I love you! You MUST see this, my dear! I implore it! I love YOU!

I LOVE YOU! ONLY _**YOU!**_

I will always love you…

When…did this hellish, seductive nightmare begin?

I believe it began…on that day. The day that I, Alois Racine, was competing for the finals in a tennis match against my rival, Jacques. It was spring. The season of new life. Certainly it was the season of new life- or perhaps a nightmare- because that was the day that I met YOU, my love.

I remember that my dear old mother was there, cheering along with the crowd as I raised my racquet to deliver the finishing strike, when a dash of crimson caught my eye. You have to understand, my love, I am not criticising you- in fact, just the opposite! But crimson was not a colour that most women wore in spring, and certainly not to a tennis match. All the other ladies were sporting power-blue dresses and pinafores, but you, my love…you caught my eye immediately.

I remember that my eyes widened, that my arm slowed, and then stopped. I couldn't help but gaze with admiration at the way you wore that dress, Justine, and I marvel at it still. Voluptuous but not like a harlot, you were radiant, grinning at me coyly over a mouthful of ice cream. And I fell in love instantly. You see, my dear, it takes a certain kind of woman to do the thing you did- to go against societal beliefs, that is, and look as stunning as you did. Our eyes met…and I knew that we would be lovers. It was a startling revelation, and, as the ball sailed past me, I found that I didn't care. I as young, Justine, am still young, but I am certain that my love for you is truer. The moment our eyes made contact…we had a connection, one that is not so easily cast aside.

Forgive me if I sound dramatic, my love, but…it was enchanting, falling in love with you.

I had forsaken the game by that point, but I didn't care. As soon as it was over, and I dodged my mother's stern gaze, I made my way to you. As customary of a gentleman, I bowed before you and took your gloved hand in mine. I remember your surprised smile, your startled laugh, and I positively GLOWED. Perhaps it was bizarre and frivolous of me to do so, but pressing my lips to your hand felt perfectly natural. You smiled at me, Justine, and I was happy beyond description.

With that smile, you had entangled me in your glittering, seductive web, and I loved every second of it. In fact, I still do.

"My God," my first words to you were, "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I don't think beautiful covers it, really."

You giggled, my love, and said don't be silly, I'm nothing really, and I protested against this furiously, until you gave in and allowed me to take you to lunch. I remember the sweet taste of the strawberry ice cream we each got, the even sweeter taste of your lips as we said farewell that afternoon, with the promise to meet the next day.

When I returned home, my mother was less than happy. Furious, if you will. "Where have you BEEN?!" she'd shrieked that night, and I'd smiled and told her that I was in love. "With Mademoiselle Florbelle?" she'd frowned. "Stay away from her, Alois. Monsieur Fournier believes she is a hysteric."

"A hysteric?" I'd said furiously, "Justine is the most beautiful woman in the world! I would do anything for her!"

And I would, Justine, I really would. My arms are covered, do you not see? But anyway…

We did so much together! I distinctly remember that as our courting progressed, we went from having our own ice cream to sharing one. I remember how the strawberry sauce coursed down the mountain of ice cream, pooling into a river of blood at the bottom. I remember when you asked me to teach you to play tennis. You asked me how long I'd been playing- since I was fourteen, of course. We grasped the racquet together, and I remember how you gyrated your hips with mine as we swung the racquet back in forth, mimicking actual play. But I didn't care in the slightest. My smile never once faded from my face, and I don't believe I ever saw you cry during those times, either.

Those days were perfection. I've never been so happy in my life, and it's all thanks to you, my love. You…are an angel.

You are not made for this earth- you are just too wonderful and too glorious to belong here. I can imagine you as an angel, my dear, and what a stunning angel you make.

Surely you can understand where I'm coming from, love? You are an angel, and me, being the imperfect, stumbling youth that I was, you were everything to me. _Mon âme. _My soul. My entire world. My…everything.

Words alone cannot satisfy you, it appears. No matter. Anything that comes from my mouth is sure to sound silly, but that night, the night when we were to bed for the first time, you asked me to prove my love for you.

"Alois," you'd asked, standing there, looking marvellous in that same crimson gown you'd first worn to the tennis match, "Do you love me?"

"Of course!" I'd said fiercely, "I love you so much, Justine."

Your smile grew wider, and your eyes danced. "Would you do anything for me, Alois?" You asked, beginning to unbutton your dress.

I had squared my shoulders. "Without hesitation!" I'd declared, "Justine, I would sooner hurt myself than let anyone hurt you! I…would give…my very life if it was to protect you!"

You laughed then. And I smiled. Then you pulled the skirt of your dress up just enough to reveal a short knife, strapped to your knee. I had blanched, my face going slack. "Justine…what is _that?" _

"I brought it," you murmured, eyes flickering in the semi-darkness, half-mocking and half-seductive, and I squirmed uneasily on the spot, "So you could show me how much you love me."

"I don't understand," I said bluntly. Your grin grew that little wider, and you sidled up to me, gyrating your pelvis against mine.

"Prove it," you had purred, biting your lip softly, "Prove your love for me with something that causes harm, Alois. Prove your love for me. With this." You held up the knife.

"You really want this?" I asked, taking the knife from you. You nodded vigorously, a smile transforming your features.

"Why are you so hesitant?" you asked, sounding hurt. I met your eyes, and was shocked to see that there were tears there. I…had made you cry? That was unthinkable! I had DONE the unthinkable! I, Alois Racine, had made his angel cry! "Do you not really love me? I'll ask you one more time, Alois…would you really do anything for me? Or are you a liar and a scoundrel?"

NO! I AM **NOT **A LIAR OR A SCOUNDREL! I raised the knife to my wrist. "I've said it once and I'll say it again," I roared passionately, sliding the blade across my skin, feeling the wetness bubble to the surface, "I would give you my very life, Justine!"

Then you were on me, kissing me passionately, and it didn't matter that my wrist was bleeding slowly but steadily- the pain was transformed into bliss, and we fell into a graceful tangle onto the bed.

"More, Alois, _more!" _

"Yes, my love!" Another cut.

"More!"

"Anything for you, my love!" Another.

"Don't stop, Alois! Don't stop!"

"Of course, Justine!"

My arms are covered in scars. Every slice, every ounce of pain that leaked from them, was for YOU, Justine. Am I not the most devoted? Do my scars not tell you so?

But apparently you did not consider me to be the best. Shortly after that night, you called me to supper. You had said that there were some 'guests' over and that you wanted me to meet them. I was excited beyond belief. Relatives, perhaps? Was Justine finally introducing me to her family?

Clarice greeted me at the door. "Monsieur Racine, hello!" she said cheerfully.

"Hi, Clarice," I replied, just as excited as she was. "Is Justine about?"

Now Clarice looked slightly embarrassed. "Um…actually, Madam Florbelle is…"

"Has she got relatives here to visit?" I asked. Maybe her parents were snobby. Not that I would have anything to worry about. If I could entrance Justine, I could get by.

"I'm not really sure you could call them that…" she said, when a voice interrupted her. Deep, masculine.

"Will you just let the kid in, for Christ's sake, Clarice?"

Clarice jumped. "Y-yes, Monsieur Giroux!" she squeaked, and stepped aside to let me through. Monsieur Giroux? Who was THAT?

As I crossed the threshold, I heard the sound of angels.

"Alois, hello!"

"Justine-!" And I stopped dead in my tracks. On either side of you, Justine, MY Justine, were two men, one tall, stockily-built, and a hard face. The other was tall and lean, with a mane of coppery-red hair that was tied in a loose ponytail. They both had their arms around her waist, and they were smiling at me nastily. "Justine, what's going on?" I prayed that they were touchy-feely cousins or something. Surely not…

"I'd like you to meet Basile and Malo, Alois," you smiled. I felt the blood drain out of my face. The small box I'd been carrying in my pocket seemed useless now.

Nevertheless, I clung to my hope. "Ah, relatives of yours?" I asked carefully, sizing them up. Basile, the stocky one, was glaring at me. I noticed that he had a scar over one eye. Malo, the stringy one, seemed friendlier, albeit somewhat pretentious.

You laughed. "Oh, please, Alois, did you really think you were my _only _suitor?"

"I…what?"

You giggled, and Basile and Malo smirked. "You really thought we were exclusive, huh? I've been dating Basile and Malo for much longer than _you_, and to be honest Alois, I think they've proved their love for me _much _better than you have."

Such cruel words…yet necessary. I knew what I needed to do to prove that I was the worthy one here, the one that Justine should ultimately marry. Basile was stronger than me, true; he was a proficient carpenter with an unruly temper, and Malo was a talented musician. Worthy opponents, Justine. But I am certain that my love is truer, and I did- will still do- anything to prove myself to you, my dear.

The pain…of that night was unbearable. I could scarcely bring myself to even be in the same room as Malo and Basile, yet you expected it of me, my dear, and even though it felt as though you were slowly but surely carving my heart out with a cleaver, I did as I was told. Because I was the best. The most certain of my love for you, Justine. I still love you so, so much. The thought of losing you…NO! I cannot bear to even imagine it; because you will always be mine, Justine. No matter what you say, I will always love you. Have I not proved it enough already?

I remember the pain of that night all too well. I remember excusing myself from your glorious presence, my dear, and returning home, barely able to hold back the flood of tears. My mother was waiting for me at the door. She had been furious. "You're spending too much time with Mademoiselle Justine," she'd snarled, wagging a finger in my face, "She's _bad _for you, Alois."

Something in me snapped then. I'm not entirely sure what it was, but suddenly I disliked the idea of my mother nosing into my business too much. "I am NOT spending too much time with Justine!" I shouted. "She's my all, my everything!"

My mother's face froze then, transformed into something I can't quite describe. If she could see me now, my love, and all that I have done for you, I cannot begin to imagine her expression! But she went white, absolutely WHITE, and she began to scream. I hadn't realised that my forearms were dreadfully exposed until much too late. I looked down, and saw that they were covered in scars, most crisscrossing over the delicate flesh. I ran a finger over one, and smiled. This was the utmost proof that I loved Justine, was it not? So why…was Mother screaming?

"LUCIEN! _LUCIEN! COME QUICK!" _

I heard the sounds of my father emerging from his study, and I knew I had to move. So long as I was with Justine, (and I shall always be with you, my dear- our love is everlasting and shall never fade!), I had no place here. I dodged my mother and fled from the house, my mother's screams following me into the night.

"LUCIEN, DID YOU SEE HIS ARMS?! OH MY GOD, SOMEONE SAVE MY BABY!"

It wasn't so easy in the beginning. Competing with Malo and Basile, separating myself from my family…it was hard. The pain was unimaginable. But that pain…was only the start of this! I have since gotten stronger! Wouldn't you agree, my love, that I have gotten stronger?! Now I can endure anything! Any pain, any torture, from my body to my heart to my soul, I can endure it all, just for you! Is this not what you wanted?!

Later that night…I returned to you. Strangely enough, neither Malo nor Basile were about. You told me that they were asleep. I beared my soul to you that night, telling you what my family thought of you. You did not take the news well.

"A hysteric? Really?" You asked coyly, leading me down a set of stairs. Of course, I followed without question, because even in the darkest of places, if you were present, I would be the happiest man alive.

I bowed my head, allowing my blonde curls to cover my face in shame. "Yes, my love."

You shook your head at me. "Well, they _are _friendly with Monsieur Fournier, and they haven't exactly been on peaceful terms with my father…well, it was good of you to tell me, Alois."

I smiled, as happy as a clam. "Anything for you, my love!"

We reached what appeared to be a prison. I stared around me in wonder. I hadn't known that the Florbelle's mansion housed a prison. But, looking back at it now…it shouldn't have surprised me. Justine Florbelle was the daughter of Pierre Florbelle, famed aristocrats. Surely someone as extraordinary as you, my love, would be sitting comfortably atop a prison! Such mansions were highly sought after, and of course you would live in such a place. You pointed to a stool in the middle of one cell. "Sit there for me, Alois," you whispered.

"Of course, my dear," I said happily, and sat there without another thought. You slowly approached me, pausing only to pick up a small blade resting on a table beside an empty bottle and a lone tinderbox.

"I love you dearly, Alois, you know that, yes?"

Though you'd said it many times, I could not supress the happiness springing up inside me when I heard those words. Whenever she said them, it was like it was our first time all over again. I beamed at her. "Yes, my love!"

You frowned. "But, you know what, Alois? I was having a _marvellous _evening, and I'm afraid…your news has saddened me greatly."

"I'm sorry, my love!" I cried, making as if to jump up from the stool, but you pushed me back down, your hands firm. As if I could ever resist you, Justine! I stayed put.

You held the knife out, its cruel edge glinting dully. I felt a stab of excitement course through me. The cuts hurt, yes, but it was of a minor pain, and if it made you happy…

"I don't like people who ruin my day," you said through gritted teeth, "Alois, open your shirt."

I did so with great haste. What was going on? This was unlike you…but who was I to question you, my dear? You are an angel, and you know what is best. I unbuttoned first my jacket, and then my dress shirt, allowing it to fall open for you. You smiled and licked your lips feverishly.

"What…what is going on, Justine?" I asked quietly. You were silent for several moments, and then spoke.

"I don't like your chest!" You yelled suddenly, furiously, brandishing the knife at me, "Let's cut it!"

"Yes, my love!" I felt the blade slice into my flesh, splitting it like warm cheese. Blood bubbled to the surface, and snaked down my skin. It hurt. But…I was determined to prove that my love was truer! That I was the worthy man among the three suitors! And perhaps, if I endured the worst pain imaginable, you would choose me as your suitor, your ONLY suitor! That has always been my goal and my dream…I will always want you, Justine.

My chest stung horribly, as the air got to the wounds and made it feel as though you were searing my chest. I would do anything to stop myself from hurting you as I had that night! All I wanted…was to see you smile! I would do anything for your happiness! Malo and Basile…they…DIDN'T DESERVE YOU!

When you announced that this cell was to be my living quarters whilst I was here, I accepted it without question. Because I love you so, so much. I wanted to see you happy, and if that meant enduring pain, living alone in the darkness…I would do it! Because it was all for you, Justine! For YOU!

You supplied me with a writing desk, several sheets of paper, and a tennis racquet and ball. You did not provide me with a pen, but not once did I complain to you, Justine. Unlike Malo, who whined like a child when he did not have his sheet music in his own cell when he joined me several nights after, and unlike Basile, who muttered and grumbled sourly to himself through the nights. I accepted everything you said without question, because my love for you is truer. I was the one who loves you the most, Justine! I LOVE YOU!

Still, you were not happy. Monsieur Fournier was sent out to your property to investigate my absence, and every time he left, you would come down to our cells and cry, your beautiful frame racking with sobs. My heart nearly broke then, and I knew that this, all of this, was my fault. My family had hired Monsieur Fournier to look for me. **I **was the cause of all your pain.

I promptly dragged myself to the desk, bit on the pad of my thumb until the blood came, and began writing. Not on the paper, no! I wanted to be sure that my apology would last a great deal longer than so easily expendable paper. It took some great time and effort, but I felt that every moment was justified. It was all for you, my love. Every agonising moment it took to write that message, that 'FORGIVE ME', it was worth it. Because if you saw it, you would see that I truly cared for you the most.

It took some several days for you to notice, but you did. When you came to my cell that morning, looking as radiant as ever, my heart leapt. "What's this?" you asked softly. I gave you a loving smile.

"My apologies, my love, for ruining your evening and causing you so much trouble," I said softly. You giggled.

"Oh, Alois, you silly thing!"

"Yeah, Alois, you _silly thing," _Malo rasped from the cell beside me. You had been bringing him alcohol for good behaviour, and he was recovering from a hangover. I noticed dumbly how bloodshot his eyes were, and how the front of his blouse was too, soaked through with blood.

"You didn't have to do all that for me, Alois," you said, flushing crimson. I beamed.

"I would do anything for you, Justine!"

And I would.

I really would.

I remember little from that moment on, but certain memories are fresh in my mind. The hair-cutting, the eye-gouging…

"Alois, I _really _don't like your hair! It's too curly! Let's cut it!"

"Of course, Justine!"

"Alois, I hate your eyes! They're too _blue! _Let's fix that, shall we?"

You holding the red-hot poker in one hand, smiling angelically while you brought it to my face.

"A-anything for you, my love…"

It…hurts! It hurts all over! It hurts to move, it hurts to BREATHE! But I am proud of myself, my dear, and I hope you feel the same way. I did not have to be tied up like Malo or Basile whilst you burnt out my eyes, did I not? I did it all, suffered through everything, because it made you happy, Justine! Do you not see that I love you the most?!

You stood in front of me, or so I thought. I couldn't see anymore. "Alois…would you ever leave me?" You asked quietly, sounding teary.

Despite the pain, despite my rapidly-deteriorating ability to breathe without rasping like a monster, I squared my bloody, scarred shoulders. "I wouldn't dream of it!" I shouted weakly, "I'll never leave you, my love!"

"Good, that's good…" You laughed.

This pain, it hurts so much…but it makes you happy! I would do anything to make you happy!

Your heels make a slight clicking noise on the cold cobblestones. I jerk out of my pained daze, and lumber to my feet awkwardly. I am well-practiced in moving without sight, now. I have learnt to rely only on my hearing, which is precise and well-trained to recognise you, my love. I inhale sharply, and then groan, as the cuts reopen, the wheel constricting my throat.

"Hello, Alois."

"You came for me!" I am overjoyed. I launch myself towards her, but find my cell door has been barricaded. Since when did that happen…?

"Not really." Your voice is cold, like death. I wheeze slightly, trying to pinpoint where you might be, so that I can address you as such. "You are now part of my Cabinet of Perturbation. Farewell, Alois." The clacking noise of your shoes indicate that you are leaving.

I cannot believe it. She was leaving me? To what end? Just the mere thought of not having Justine in my life made me sick to my stomach. In fact, I DID retch a few times, unable to cope with the thought. "Your footsteps, they grow faint! Are you going away?" I call, picking myself up from the ground. "No, Justine, don't leave me! Justine, please wait!"

No answer. I stumble to my feet and scream, many of my cuts opening wider. I am naked, but I don't care. "No, Justine! PLEASE! I LOVE YOU!"

I flail around my cell, my familiarity with the darkness fading with my panicked frenzy, "I can't see you, my love! Please! Let me know you're here and safe!"

"Shut up, Alois," Basile barks from his cell. Malo gives a kind of strangled laugh and resumes taking chunks out of his forearms. He hasn't eaten actual food for months.

I ignore them both. "My love, you've locked me in here! I can't reach you!"

I begin to beat the door with my fists, howling, with everything I have left, until at last it gives way. I stumble around the prison, turning every which way, frustrated by my blindness. I hear a faint sound, somewhere, and I cry out. "Is that you, I hear?" I am hopeful. Our love is everlasting. We shall always find out way back to each other. Because I love you so much, Justine. So much.

"Please, come back-!"

A shatter of glass. A gasp of terror. The clacking of heels. "You came for me!" I exclaimed happily, and followed the sound of the shoes. "Justine, please, come back, I still love you, we can be together- forever!"

Whenever Justine left me, I felt as though my heart were breaking. Now, as I closed in on her, and I encompassed her in a warm embrace, and slowly felt the life leave her body, I smiled. I may be beaten and battered and broken, but here we were, two lovers, together at last. I knew that my love was truer, and it was for that reason that I had to kill her. If Justine was dead, then she could never leave me, never turn to Basile or Malo. It would just be the two of us, as it should always have been.

This was the only way we could have been together. Because I love you so, so much, Justine, that I am not willing to share you with anyone else.

You whimper in my arms, your body broken. I cannot see the blood, but I can smell it in the dingy air. You are dying. You struggle weakly to escape my embrace, and I place my lips upon your forehead, kissing the face that I love so much. Thinking that even though I cannot see you, your face will be engraved in my mind forever- such a beautiful sight is not easy to forget. I love you.

"Hush, now…it's all right."

I love you.


End file.
